Not a smart man
by Adage
Summary: Set after the season 3 finale. Wade watched her walk back towards her house, teetering in her ridiculous heels and teeny tiny shorts. What was he doing? He'd wanted her from the second he set eyes on her - from the first cross word out of her tiny mouth - why was he still stalling?
1. 1: Of words unsaid

Zoe puffed the straggling bit of hair out of her eyes wearily. It was 10pm on a stifling Tuesday night in late October and the surgery was still busy. It seemed that every citizen of Bluebell had overnight developed wildly varying ailments that required immediate medical attention, and, with Brick away at a hunting retreat, it had fallen to Zoe as the remaining town doctor to attend to the high volume of patients.

She smiled weakly at Patty Pritchett.

"You seem to have developed a touch of labyrinthitis, which explains the dizzy spells. I'll write you a prescription, and it should clear up within three to five days. Just don't go up any ladders in the meantime," she cautioned.

"Ah knew Prizzi was talkin' outta her ass," Patty drawled in response. "She was tryin' to get me to a psychic - said ah couldna stand up straight 'cause I missed church and the devil had gotten t' me bones."

Zoe smiled tiredly, handing her the prescription paper. "Well I can assure you that you're not possessed. Just a small inner ear problem."

"Thanks Doc." Patty collected her wildly clashing purple cardigan and red leather bag and hoiked them inelegantly over her shoulder.

Zoe followed her to the door of the office, smiling politely despite the dull ache in the balls of her feet. In her rotations as a medical student she had done 30 hour shifts but - some days - that seemed to shrink in comparison to a 15 hour work day with the residents of Bluebell.

She peered apprehensively round the corner into the waiting room. _Please don't be Shula, please don't be Shula…_

Thankfully, there seemed to be only one occupant and she recognised him immediately from his battered all-weather boots. Despite her weariness, Zoe felt her heart give a little skip.

"Twist your ankle falling in that hole again?" she asked lightly.

Wade glanced up at her, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He smirked slightly, taking in her frazzled appearance.

"Tough day Doc?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh you know, healing the sick and helping the needy - all in a day's work." A silence hung between them as they looked at each other. "So… what can I do you for?"

He bit his lip anxiously, his eyes flicking away from and then back to meet hers. "Well, it's uh, it's Earl."

"Oh, is he okay?" Zoe asked, concern marring her expression.

"Yeah he's fine," he said reassuringly. "But see now he's out of hospital, well, he really wants to see you." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Us - he wants to see us. Together, like."

Zoe nodded slowly. "Now?" she asked, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

Wade shook his head. "Nah, you're exhausted Zoe - tomorrow night. Let me give you a ride home."

She jolted slightly at the use of her first name. If she'd been in her right mind, she would have come up with something bright and pithy, but she was just exhausted. Even without the endless stream of patients she was barely sleeping and things with Wade had never been more tightly wound, which was a completely different kind of exhausting.

The drive home was short, silent and thick with words unsaid. She glanced regularly at Wade, wondering what he was thinking. Did he want her to talk? He had that little crease between his eyebrows that indicated deep thought - but was it about her? Or business at the Rammer Jammer? Or… something else entirely?

"A picture'd last longer ya know."

Zoe looked away quickly. She narrowed her eyes as the plantation pulled into view. "Wade, are we ever going to talk?"

The car rolled slowly to a halt roughly equidistant between their two houses. Wade kept his eyes fixed on the dashboard long after the engine cut out and Zoe felt like the silence was trying to suffocate her.

Eventually, the silence got too much for her. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how many more times I can say it. I know I put you in an awkward situation. But I couldn't just let you leave Bluebell - not without letting you know!"

He heaved a deep breath. "I know this is killing you Doc. I'm sorry, I just… I just need some more time."

She pressed her lips together, trying to hide her disappointment. "That's cool. Time is fine, just - y'know - let me know when you're ready to talk."

Wade watched her walk back towards the carriage house, teetering in her ridiculous heels and teeny tiny shorts. What was he doing? He'd wanted her from the second he set eyes on her - from the first cross word out of her tiny mouth - why was he still stalling?

The truth was it had been five weeks since Zoe had said those words to him, the words he had been longing to hear for the last three years, and he still didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he loved her back - desperately - he'd never felt for anyone what he felt for her. Hell, he'd never even met anyone like her. But he felt like they were teetering on the brink of something; something new, something different, and he didn't know what role he was meant to play. Their relationship had always been aspirational for him; it had always been him reaching for her and trying to convince her to give him a shot. Hell, he chased her across the state just to tell her he loved her, but it'd been safe - he'd never really believed that she would give in.

Now, here she was, offering him everything; all in, and he was terrified.

He was not a smart man, and that was the bottom line really. He'd had her physically, and he knew that he would never get tired of that. He'd seen her soul - if he believed in such things - and it was a perfect fit for his. And he'd seen her mind, and that's what scared him. She was so sharp, so bright and so… capable - how could he ever satisfy that? Why would she stay with someone who couldn't keep up with her? Oh, he knew he was challenging, but not in the good way that she needed. He couldn't challenge her the way that, say, George Tucker could challenge her.

Wade slapped the steering wheel in frustration. Tomorrow - tomorrow, he would man up. Tonight he would mope some more.

Thanks for reading y'all.


	2. 2: Of woes and wishes

Zoe sat in front of her opened laptop and drummed her fingers impatiently on the oak coffee table. She tucked her slippered feet under her and tried to blink the sleep from her eyes. It had been another restless night, despite her exhaustion, and had been haunted by Wade's impassive face and her own uneasy fears.

Abruptly the screen sprung to life and a familiar face looked imperiously back at her.

"You'll have to excuse my tardiness, the internet connection here is patchy at best."

Zoe smiled at Lemon's taciturn greeting. "Not a problem, I'm not in the office until lunchtime. How's the SS Desperation today?"

"Oh you know, terribly sickening. I only wish I'd learnt to swim better as a child."

Zoe had to hold in a laugh at the mental image of Lemon swimming to Bluebell in one of her flouncy yellow numbers. "So what's the emergency? Drowning in desperation?"

"No… well, not exactly anyway. It's George. And Lavon…"

"Oh, I am so glad Laveorge-gate is still going," crowed Zoe, "it makes my problems seem so much more trivial!"

Lemon narrowed her eyes dangerously. She huffed, "If you don't _want _me to tell you about it, then I _can_ talk to someone else."

Smiling inwardly, the brunette composed her features into a serious look. Despite both of them knowing that, with AnnaBeth away visiting her cousins, there was no one else in town that Lemon would want to talk to - it remained important to keep up the charade of dislike. Zoe was constantly surprised by how warm Lemon actually was beneath the tough exterior and over-active anxiety complex, and how much she was coming to value their developing friendship.

"Please continue."

"Well, I think they're both getting a bit out of hand in all honesty. It's getting embarrassing! Just this morning I received a box of chocolates, a flower garland, a small flowering shrub and a week's supply of chocolate pudding. The other guests are starting to think that I have an infirm aunt. Or, possibly, a collection of infirm aunts," Lemon paused for a breath amongst the torrent, "and what with Daddy cavorting about and doting on Shelby 2.0 and Magnolia making it her life's mission to be the centrepiece of every party south of Tennessee, the Breeland name really doesn't need anymore drama attached!"

Zoe held out her hands in supplication. "Lemon, it is only 9 am and your familial insecurity bit is already in complete burnout! You went on this trip to get _away_ from all this madness -"

"No, I was _sent_ on this trip to find a respectable _husband_," the blonde corrected promptly. "And woe betide if I don't succeed… I suspect Grandma will barricade the ramp off the ship until someone proposes to me."

Mimicking Lemon's face of dismay empathetically, Zoe said, "First off, your Grandma is clearly the craziest member of the family - a hard fought title in your case - and you probably shouldn't listen to her. Secondly, what Brick and Magnolia are doing (or not doing) will not make you any more or less attractive to the other occupants of the SS Desperation," she ticked the points off her fingers as she went, "and finally, you should just stop worrying about everyone else for a second and try and figure out what it is that _you_ want. What is it that Lemon Breeland wants?"

Lemon's perfectly coiffed locks bounced around her face as she shook her head violently from side to side. "Oh Zoe Hart, how is it you can still know so little. This is never about _me_; this is always about being a Breeland."

"You're a grown woman, Lemon, you can't look after everyone for ever."

There was a slight impasse as the two women stared at each other through the virtual connection.

Shaking off the moment, Lemon affected a brighter tone, "Anyway, could you please ask Lavon and George to just stop sending things? I don't need any more chocolate or biscuits or puddings, I don't need any more flowers - even I would struggle to grow a garden on a ship - and I definitely don't want any more poetry. Or mix-tapes," she added as an afterthought, "no more mix-tapes."

"I can try'" Zoe responded doubtfully. She thought of George and Lavon sitting across the table from each other in the Butter Stick thinking up rhymes, scribbling furiously in notebooks and eyeing the other suspiciously. It seemed that the competition for Lemon's heart had really ignited something in the both of them, and would probably be relatively difficult to dampen. In response to Lemon's pleading gaze, she relented: "I'll see what I can do."

"Great!" replied Lemon chirpily. "So how are things with Wade?"

Zoe harrumphed indelicately.

"Let's see… I've tried to talk to him, I've tried to get him drunk, I've tried to cook for him, I've tried to join him in a Halo online game - well at least I think it was him - I've tried to get Lavon to talk to him and I've even tried wandering around the house in just my underwear, although I don't think he noticed and I nearly fell out of the window trying to make him." Lemon's eyes widened at the forwardness of it and Zoe blushed slightly. She muttered, "Wouldn't have been so bad if Rev Mayfair and Beverley hadn't been on an afternoon jaunt at the time."

Raising an eyebrow, Lemon said' "Have you tried telling him how you feel?"

"I did! It's his turn!"

"He'll come around, you know he still loves you. I think he probably always will - just give him time."

"He'd better, and soon… my next plan to get him to notice me is to set Burt Reynolds loose and hide gumbo in his bedsheets."

The other perfectly plucked eyebrow rose to meet the first, and Lemon looked a little alarmed. Zoe chuckled, "Joking… well, mostly. Probably best to put that plan on hold until after dinner with Earl."

"That sounds promising?"

Zoe shrugged, nibbling on her lower lip anxiously. "We'll see, I suppose."

She glanced out of the window and saw that Wade was out tinkering under the bonnet of his car. Honestly, what there could be left to tinker with under there she would never know, but it seemed like as good a time as any to confirm their plans for the evening.

"Okay, well good chatting to ya, secret bestie. Time to rise, shine and heal some sick locals."

"We are not besties," Lemon replied haughtily, "Secret or otherwise. And don't forget to talk to George and Lavon for me."

Zoe nodded brightly, "Try not to drown!"

—

The day dragged by interminably slowly. Patient after patient insisted on telling her their highly detailed, and often uncomfortably intimate, stories relating to their inner and outer pains which she endured with as much good grace as she could muster. In truth, her mind was fixed determinedly on the upcoming events of the evening - what did it mean? What was expected of her? She liked Earl, he had a good heart and was full of good intentions, even despite his sketchy track record… she could definitely identify with that.

She resolved to focus on Earl if that's what was necessary. If Wade said he needed time, then she'd give him time; if he said he needed space, then she'd give him space. For now, anyway. Goodness knew that he had waited for her for long enough, perhaps now it was her turn.

Zoe didn't even consciously realise the day had finished until she found herself half way home in the cool evening night air.

"Alright, Big Z," greeted a familiar voice.

"Lavon! I haven't seen you all day."

"Yeah well… mayor-stuff y'know," he mumbled. 'Read: Lemon-stuff,' Zoe thought to herself as they resumed a casual pace in the direction of the plantation.

"I need your help, oh bestest best friend of mine."

Lavon hunkered slightly in trepidation. "I am not painting your toenails, or braiding your hair, or discussing horoscopes - I am not a girl! I am not doing any of that stuff… again."

"No, it's Wade. I really need your help with Wade…"

The mayor gave her a half hug as they walked. "Zoe, we talked about this. He's my best friend, I can't be seen to take sides."

"I know," replied the brunette coyly. "But I was thinking that I could help you in return."

"And how's that?"

"Well I was thinking I might join Team Lavon…"


	3. 3: Of Alligators and Imbeciles

Lavon blinked at her. "But you gave me that great long speech about how you were Switzerland, a _neutral_ territory, how you couldn't side with me or George because it wouldn't be fair. Well at least I think that's what you were saying, I stopped listening after you got the map out."

"That was then, and this is now. I can help! I could go under cover and find out what George is doing and then report back."

Lavon looked uncertain. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course!" Zoe said, punching him jovially on the shoulder, "That's what best friends are for."

The mayor narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "And what would I have to do in return?"

"Oh you know - report back on Wade, say nice things about me and… help me decide on something to wear this evening."

"Z, you got yourself a deal. I always say nice things about you."

"Ha," replied Zoe derisively. The spur of the moment plan was falling into place nicely; if she could make both George and Lavon believe she was onside she could _maybe_ convince them to do something else other than send things to Lemon. Plus, a distraction from Wade was just what she needed. "So do we have team colours or anything?"

—

The evening had turned into a disaster. Well, actually, it had started as a disaster and then just maintained momentum.

Zoe picked at her risotto in silence, trying to think of something to say. Failing that, just to make some noise of some description to fill the awkward silence that had blossomed. She sipped her pomegranate juice, desperately wishing that it was red wine. What with Earl being tee-total and all, she had been forced by her conscience to go soft when really - with the night that she had had - a double measure of whiskey would definitely have hit the spot.

The events contributing to the disastrous meal hadn't entirely been her fault… In the first instance, it definitely hadn't been her fault that Burt Reynolds had decided to sleep under Lavon's car, although she did feel somewhat responsible for injuring the beloved alligator. Once they'd established Burt would survive, she was already running 25 minutes late and her phone had run out of juice so giving Wade a head's up had been impossible.

By the time she had arrived at Fancies, she was over half an hour late and had been hijacked outside by Vivian and Charles who were enjoying an evening in Bluebell. Happy to see Vivian, but painfully aware that Wade was inside and waiting - and probably a little fed up - she had tried to keep things brief, but they had followed her into Fancies anyway in order to make a reservation of their own.

Wade had looked less than impressed to see them, and - to Zoe's dismay - even less impressed to see her. Earl had given her a hug though, and she noted that he had tidied himself up admirably for the occasion. However he seemed a little absent; not his usual cheery self at all. She hadn't seen him since he had been released from hospital but he looked older, somehow. He had also referred to her as "Marianne" which seemed to put Wade in an even darker mood ever.

"So, how was the Rammer Jammer today?" she forced herself to say brightly. "Rammed and jamming?"

Wade lifted an eyebrow, "Something like that."

She nodded enthusiastically, feeling like a try-too-hard mum with a fractious teenager. "Good, good."

Earl mumbled something under his breath which Zoe strained to hear. He looked a bit unsteady and unfocused. "Earl, you alright? Not going too crazy on us are you?"

Zoe had meant the comment light-heartedly, but the dark look that Wade flashed her made her wish she could take it back.

Earl mumbled again, more audibly this time. "Mari, we should get back, Wade 'n' Jesse'll be givin' the poor ol' babysitter hell."

Wade gave his father a very intense look.

"Dad, she ain't here," he said, sharply.

Zoe could temporarily see the unmasked pain in Wade's eyes; she could see some of the vulnerability that he hid under all that bluster. Of course she'd seen different versions of it before; the morning after the night he thought she had forgiven him; by a wooden fence in a field far across the state; in the ditch outside Earl's house when she had needed him to match her own strength exactly… but this was different. She'd never seen him look lost before.

As quickly as it had come, it was gone again. His eyes snapped to hers. "I need to get him home."

"Of course," Zoe agreed readily. "I'll come too."

"If you want, but you don't need to…" he trailed off, his eyes rising to meet someone standing behind her.

She turned, and who she saw knocked the breath out of her in surprise.

"Kyle!? What on earth are you doing here?"

—

Wade helped Earl into the creaky old porch of his little wooden house, and settled him into the rickety rocking chair.

"You're a good son, Wade," Earl told him, crinkling his eyes in exhaustion.

"Yeah." He turned to leave.

"But you're going to lose her for good if you keep being such a numb-skulled eejit."

Wade stopped, his back to Earl. He thought back to Zoe in the restaurant, of her little black dress and wayward tendrils of brown hair that his fingers itched to smooth away. She was so… luminous. Then he thought of the unexpected 'Kyle' and he darkened.

It transpired that Kyle was Zoe's ex from before she'd left New York and by the pitch that her voice managed to reach, it seemed that she hadn't seen him since. Wade didn't stick around long enough to find out what he was doing in Bluebell, but it seemed pretty clear to him that there was only one reason why he could be there.

"She deserves more, Dad," he replied.

"Don't get her muddled up with your issues. Either you want her or you don't. If you want her, then you got to be braver. If you let 'er pass you by, you'll always regret it."

Wade rolled his eyes. "And I should take advice from the man who had his shoes on the wrong feet, was most well known - until recently - for getting drunk and climbing a rooftop once a month, and this evening kept on referring to the local doctor as his dead wife?"

"Yeah, yeah," Earl waved his objections away carelessly, "but you know that I'm full of sense here, or you wouldna bought it up."

His son shook his head evenly, but just answered, "'Night Dad."

The night was chilled as he walked back to the gatehouse, his head full of thought. Earl was right, of course; the man might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic but he'd somehow always been dead-on when it came to him and Zoe. Almost like a proper Dad should be.

He didn't know why he was stalling and thinking about it for too long made his hurt. He knew that in some respects it boiled down to the feeling that this was it - the last shot; if it didn't work out now then it felt like it never would. And what if he tried and he failed? How would he live in Bluebell again with her around, knowing that he'd proved himself to be what he always knew he was - a useless, small-town failure?

Wade knew he needed to man-up, and fast, before one of the other men in the queue beat their way to Zoe's doorstep before he came to his senses. That was the thing about Zoe Hart; men falling in love with her was not an uncommon occurrence.

—

_A/N: Good? Bad? Enjoying it? Room for improvement? Let me know :-) Am trying to update approx. once a week just now, so keep an eye out for another chapter next week! Thanks for reading y'all._


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